


Celebrations

by huldrejenta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Mention of past canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huldrejenta/pseuds/huldrejenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andromeda, Teddy and birthdays</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celebrations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starfishstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishstar/gifts).



The first birthday that Andromeda can remember is when she turned four or five. Silence crept through the house that morning like any other, making the sound of heavy raindrops flinging themselves against bedroom windows the only disruption her ears could pick up. Somewhere downstairs anxious house-elves undoubtedly did their best to calm Cissy down before breakfast. Mother’s fragile nerves could only take so much. Andromeda looked for her dressing gown when she noticed a sheet of parchment lying on top of her chest of drawers. It was a black-and-white sketch, crudely, but effectively drawn. A girl and a star, and in the corner a signature in crooked writing: _Happy birthday! Love, Bella._ Years later, when leaving her childhood home behind for good, the parchment was one of few possessions Andromeda brought with her.

Teddy can vaguely remember the day he turned three. Gran woke him up singing a version of _He’s a Jolly Good Wizard_ that was more heartfelt than beautiful, before opening his curtains to let in hesitant rays of sunlight. The rest of the day was a blur of visitors, food and a sprinkling of items from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. He fell asleep slumped forward on the dining room table, clutching his new aviatomobile in one hand and some leftover lemon drizzle cake in the other.

~~~~

On what turned out to be Andromeda's happiest birthday, she and Ted travelled to Scotland with Nymphadora. They wanted to show their daughter where her parents had once met. Nymphadora happened to be a lot more interested in climbing rocks and talking to everyone they met than any anecdote Ted could tell. It didn’t matter. Walking together through places where her fondest memories had taken place, Andromeda’s little family now created new ones. 

Teddy can’t think of a happier birthday moment than waking up to find a broom beside his bed. But he’s hungry for life and nourishes a hope that his happiest birthday is yet in the future. 

~~~~

Andromeda can appreciate the irony of what she remembers as her angriest birthday. Turning heartache into anger isn’t a skill she’s acquired. It’s much easier to be angry about things that don’t matter, so while she remembers the anger that followed her the entire day, she can no longer recall what set it off. 

Teddy’s angriest birthday started with a shock of joy when Harry gave him a letter written by Mum and Dad. Steadying his breath, Teddy curled up, rested his chin on his knees and began reading. But before long, the overwhelming anger he didn’t know was there made him stop. Why did they go there that night? Were his parents really that arrogant? Did they believe that their presence at The Battle of Hogwarts would be the one thing to lean the scale towards victory? As the anger eventually waned, sadness came in its wake. So Teddy held on to the anger, just a little while longer.

~~~~

This birthday is slowly turning into the most peaceful Andromeda and Teddy have experienced. They’ve spent it talking until words lost their meaning, both of them listening without flinching once. Now they let easy silence settle around them, content to be near each other, to have a cup of tea, to breathe in and out. When the waning day has squeezed all the warmth out of the sun it’s going to get, Andromeda stands up from her chair and lifts a glass. “Happy birthday, Nymphadora,” she says. Teddy walks over to his grandmother and takes her hand, his eyes never leaving the pink-haired, smiling woman in the picture. “Happy birthday, Mum,” he says. “Give my love to Dad for me, will you?” They stand there for a few minutes before they turn and walk into the kitchen. There are plenty of things to be done, and they are ready for them all.


End file.
